Poetry A poetry series edited by Tommy Pico

A Man Called After Dark

the smoke of belt burn / and nectarines and me / — I will learn to love him

May 17, 2021
On Some Saturday, After All of This

there is little room for sourness, / little room for anything other than a vibrating joy

May 11, 2021
Universe With No Fictional Films

I was afraid of being kidnapped.

Even When Looking Up, He Thinks He Is Above the Stars

The world was a changed thing / a variant of its former self, and you were / A new ripple in the miles-deep pool of time, / that one breath strumming the tender / Chords of the system.

Apr 21, 2021
A Letter to My Mother, or Ode to Invisible Things

Dear sudden inspiration, creeping uncertainty, tiny splinter of glass, / sometimes you cannot be enough.

Mar 15, 2021
Time Lapse

In a time lapse, nothing happens smoothly. / Red horns quake as they splinter / from limbs on the bottlebrush.

Mar 12, 2021
Some Days

Some days come too soon.

Mar 02, 2021

Do I directly benefit from the enslavement and genocide of the original people of this land? Absolutely.

Feb 24, 2021
Self-Portrait with Cumin, Saffron, and Star Anise

To Cumin, Saffron, and Star Anise, sisters / of the roasted goat and rice ritual, daughters / of smoke and gossip, glowing and bloodwarm

Feb 17, 2021
The Only Invitation

I was begging / for some grandeur even if it meant / a little blood or whole limb

Feb 08, 2021

a rooster crows from a neighbor’s backyard / pinche gallo, Abuelo spits, looks quick / to see if i wake from the noise / of Spring

Mirror Stage

We remember how hard it has always been to see our body.

Blood Moon

She is determined to follow the smoke—a hymn / for what’s gone missing.

Jan 12, 2021
I Must Become a Menace to My Enemies

if you believe me to be your enemy know this I accept

Jan 05, 2021
First Nude

How to put this: I’m alive.

Dec 14, 2020
Choose Your Quarantine House (I – IV)

under the dark sitting pretty / on the patch of hardwood floor / where confession / and callousness meet

Dec 02, 2020
Reimagining Light

The water flows through hollow bones and returns / as a song. It sounds familiar in the beginning / Then always changes.

Nov 02, 2020
Corrective State

The people behind bars are captives of war / The people stolen into camps and cages / speak it plain

Shivering in the Summertime

some days my own womb shivers at the thought of / my black ass children being thrown / against any wall

Oct 19, 2020
the faggotry

the ones you call those frickin’ Ayrabs, the ones / who hold hands with / kiss cheeks with those they call / habibi & isn’t every habibi is a mis/-translation of? habibi

Oct 14, 2020